


The Delicate Nature of Spicy Cuisine

by medaeus (medivhthecorrupted)



Series: The Holocron of Darth Tyranus [22]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Doocasta, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26866456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medivhthecorrupted/pseuds/medaeus
Summary: Jedi Knight Dooku is a romantic fool.
Relationships: Dooku/Jocasta Nu
Series: The Holocron of Darth Tyranus [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699117
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	The Delicate Nature of Spicy Cuisine

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I whipped together on discord for my fellow Doocasta shippers

The archive was quiet and unusually empty even at this late hour in the evening. It was perfect for what he wanted to do tonight with a certain aspiring archivist. It didn’t take him look to find her. She was predictable in her routines. He found her in the back rooms cataloging new additions to the physical collection of the archives.

The door was open, no doubt to let in fresh air to the musty smell of hundreds of books and scrolls. Normally such a place would be kept under a controlled environment, but this particular collection was only a century old and open to the Temple public. Anything older or delicate eventually was circulated out and moved to a more secure section of the archive.

It was, therefore, no surprise to him as to why she hadn’t heard his approach. With no sound of an opening door to announce his presence and her being too focused on the physical copies of some Outer Rim world’s cultural history, it was too simple to come up behind her and wrap his arms around her in an embrace.

“Force, Dooku!” she chastised, he could feel her heart thumping in her chest. “Are you trying to send me into the Force early?”

The Jedi Knight brushed his nose along the crook of her neck and jawline, breathing in her scent—the smell of field flowers and Ateshian ink—and savoring the closeness of his embrace. “My apologies,” he purred in that deep voice he knew she loved very so much. “I came looking for you and saw an opportunity to show some affection.”

Jocasta reached to place an ink stained hand on his sleeve covered arm that was wrapped around her waist. “I appreciate your love, my dear, but, please, next time announce yourself. I could have been holding a delicate artifact.”

“But you weren’t and therefore the concern of something breaking is moot,” Dooku presses his lips tenderly to her jaw before finally releasing her and stepping back. He reached into a satchel he had slung over him and produced a grease-stained, brown paper wrapped bundle.

“I brought dinner,” he tells her and smiles when he sees her lips rise a little at the corners. “And tea!” Dooku switches the wrapped food to his other hand as he digs for the aforementioned tea. A silk bag of tea mix is produced, the aroma of hardy herbs, flowers and spices reaches his nostrils, “Well... a bag of mix anyway.”

The young archivist smiles fondly at him and reaches up to caress his clean-shaven jaw and then run her fingers over the stubble that he was growing on his chin and around his mouth. “Any special reason for this treatment at such a late hour?”

“No,” he replied and replaced their meal back into his satchel. He doubted they would have it here where they could potentially damage the books. She would be upset with him if her charge were harmed. “Just wanted to spend some time with you before the Council sends me off on another long-term mission now that Rael has passed his trials.”

She turned to the books she had been cataloguing, “Give me a few minutes to finish these and we can have dinner,” she stole a suspicious glance at the brown wrapped meal poking out of the satchel, “in one of the side rooms.”

“Fair enough.” Dooku slide a stool out from under the worktable she was working at and sat. He quietly watched her take notes and images of the books, assign a location for them, and set them each aside to move on to the next in the pile. It was boring work to him, and he wondered how she could stand spending hours doing repetitive work. Never mind that repetition was the basis of everything they did as Jedi, from meditation to lightsaber katas.

“You don’t have to sit there in silent boredom, you know.” Dooku’s cheeks flushed at her knowing words. She knew him well and knew he disliked archival work. “Tell me about your day,” Jocasta offered him and he lept onto it like a newly initiated padawan eager to take his first lightsaber lessons beyond Shii-Cho.

“There isn’t much to tell,” he downplays his life at first. “Spent most of the morning in meditation with Rael, waiting on to hear the Council’s decision on his trials. Then had lunch and met with Senator Kastol of Serenno. Apparently, my father is making things difficult for the poor man. He’s been running cover for some of Count Gora’s insensitive remarks toward the Republic and some Mid-Rim senators. I swear he is going to get himself killed or have himself sanctioned.”

“Something you probably wouldn’t mind seeing happen?” she rhetorically asked of him and Dooku gave a contempt snort in reply. “You never did have any love for him.”

“Why should I? He tried to murder me just months after I was born, banished me from my homeworld when I was five and nearly strangled me to death when I was twelve, not to mention costing me my relationship with my sister.” Dooku set his chin in a hand and puffed a loose bang from his face. When it wouldn’t settle off to the side, he took a moment to try and push it back into its impeccable place. “I shouldn’t hate him, but I do, and I know I should let go, but it is difficult. I mean who does that to their own child?!?”

“Ignorant men who are afraid of what they do not understand.” Jocasta gave him a sympathetic look before continuing with her work. “You will learn to let go soon enough, Dook.”

The Jedi Knight sighed again, “I hope so. I really do not want another lecture from Master Yoda about anger and hate and where it leads to.”

She grinned at him, “You will probably get a shin full of his gimmer stick instead.”

He winced, “Please do not remind me. I have bruises that have bruises.”

Her laughter was like music to his ears and he couldn’t help but have his mood lifted away from the irritating topic that was his estranged father. “You done yet?” he gestured at her books.

“One more,” she promised and then added, “What did you do after your meeting with the Senator?”

“Came back here to practice and spar with anyone willing,” he revealed and unhooked his curved lightsaber. “I’ve improved on my Makashi since my last mission. Still not good enough to last more than five minutes with Master Yoda and that’s only because he’s holding back still. He’d trounce me if he truly opened up, I’m sure.”

He set the ancient weapon on the table and studied the silver and black hilt for any imperfections, pondering on the unusual design he had chosen for it. He remembered when Yoda had been disapproving even if the old troll hadn’t openly said so. He never understood why the curved blade wasn’t in regular use, it gave the wielder more control over the blade. Though he suspected it was because it had become just as outdated as Makashi had. The Jedi had no use for a dueling style outside of their own tournaments.

“He’d be merciful with you,” she tells him, and the last book is finally set aside. Dooku stood and came over to offer his arm and Jocasta slipped her own into his. “You are his favorite after all.”

“Humph, not a favorite enough to have me sprawled in the mat and him standing on my chest.” The knight led her out of the archival room and rather than lead them to one of the side rooms, he took them out of the archive itself and upward.

“Where are we going?” she asked of him a moment later.

“You’ll see,” he secretively replied, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. It made him look devious with the goatee he was growing. “You’ll like it, promise.”

Their hands laced together before their arms fell between them. It was late and they did not have to worry much about others seeing them being so affectionate toward each other.

They both knew the Jedi didn’t frown upon relationships, there had been plenty of Jedi throughout history who had romantic and martial ties with one another. They simply did not encourage it out of concern of whether the Jedi involved could separate duty from personal commitments and do what was necessary when it was necessary. At least that is what Dooku kept telling himself.

Despite the history, that didn’t mean they would openly encourage ostracization by the Council and have their careers as Jedi scrutinized until it was known whether or not attachment had compromised any of the missions they had together. The Jedi did not encourage it, but it didn’t mean it was forbidden.

“We’re heading to the roof gardens, aren’t we?” Jocasta ventured to guess, bringing him out of his bitter thoughts before they could spiral downward into a darker place.

“I should have blindfolded you,” he laughs softly.

“I still would have figured it out.” She bumps her shoulder into his arm, too short to reach his own.

“I suppose you would have.” Dooku shrugged and opened the door that led out onto the roof of the ziggurat. He leads them along the woven path and down toward the gardens where he often meditated and had come to enjoy the tranquility of. He wanted to share in that same tranquility with her, hoping that spending time with the one woman he has allowed in behind his proverbial armor, would give him something else to meditate on.

“You are a romantic, you know that?” she fondly accused him.

“Guilty.” They reached the gardens, and he took a few moments to bring her to his favorite spot. A tree beside a running, artificial stream and surrounded by blooming flowers. The tree itself had lazy branches that hung low to the ground, it’s limbs twisting and curving into great arms waiting to lift carefree young kings into its higher branches.

“Here,” he lets go of her hand and unhooks the satchel from his person. “This is the spot. What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” He watched her walk around the small copse, a hand skimming a breath away from the rough bark of the low branches. “I’ve seen you meditate here.”

“Yes, I come here when I want to find some peace.” He knelt down to the mossy grass and started to unclasp the belt that kept the satchel closed. “Or when I want to bring intelligent and lovely ladies for an evening picnic.”

Jocasta glanced over her shoulder at him, smiling impishly at his teasing compliment. “Do you invite very many lovely, intelligent women to your tree?”

He blushed and was grateful for the lowlight of the gardens. He suspected she felt his emotions in the Force and had the grace not to tease him about it. “Only one,” he replied.

He held up the grease stained paper before setting it down in front of him and then dug out the tea mix and two ceramic cups. Jocasta came over and knelt down beside him, both of them facing outward toward the stream and the cityscape of Coruscant.

“Have you ever had Serennian food before?” he asked of her while he set out small plates and silverware, and then a sealed container.

“No, I cannot say that I have. Their cuisine is along the spicy palette is it not?” She watched him set things up and then unwrap the food. It wasn’t as greasy as she had expected, some kind of roasted meat sliced into thin cutlets and marinated in a dark liquid. She can smell the spices and sauces the roast had been cooked in.

“It is but nothing like Rodian cuisine,” he promised. “Senator Kastol recommended a restaurant that specialized in Outer Rim cuisine and it had a few dishes from Serenno. Unlike Count Gora, Kastol actually wants me to know where I come from.”

“Too kind of him.”

“I appreciate it. It gives me something other than being a Jedi to identify with.” He serves a few slices of the meat before opening the container to reveal a thick, white marinade and dabbed a few drops onto the cutlets.

Dooku reached into the satchel again for a thermos and a tea ball and prepared two cups of the tea for them. “This dish is served lukewarm and normally best with wine, but I couldn’t afford a bottle from my homeworld. So, I took the next best thing. A Serennian blend.” He stole a look at the tea in his hand as it seeped in the cup. “Hopefully it’s not too awful,” he chuckled sheepishly.

The young woman smiled appreciatively and accepted her cup of tea. “I’m sure it will be good else wise they wouldn’t sell such terrible tea.” She took a sip as if to be the first to brave the unknown and give her opinion of his people’s idea of what is tea. The drink was hot, and she could taste the black leaves mixed with a flowery, fruit blend. There was a hint of a spice she couldn’t identify but overall, the flavors seemed to blend in well with each other and made the tea pleasant.

“I take it from the look you’re giving, the tea passes your expectations?” Dooku looked hopeful at her.

“It’s not my usual preference but it passes,” she gives him a reassuring smile and watched the tension leave his body. “The food smells delicious. What is it?”

“Marinated and roasted nerf,” he replied and passed a plate to her.

“So, you are a nerf herder then,” she teased, and he gave her a dirty look that held no real malice behind it.

“Ha ha, very funny.” The knight tucked his legs under him and sat beside Jocasta with his own tea and plate of food. “I also have a crumble cake from home too.”

“Anything else from Serenno in that bag of yours? The world itself, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” he grinned behind a forkful of the meat. Dooku ate the portion and slowly chewed, savoring the flavors the nerf had been saturated in. “Mmm, this is actually good. Not too spicy but certainly not bland. The thick marinade adds to it, gives the kick you would expect from a spicy meal.”

“You never had this before?” He looked guiltily in reply. Jocasta shook her head before cutting into her share of the roast and Dooku quietly watched her taste the food. He could see the moment when her expression went from the skeptical but open archivist to someone who had just discovered a new dish she really liked. It warmed him knowing that he had succeeded in pleasing her.

“Well?” he asked, hopeful.

“It’s delicious.”

“Good, because my second plan was to take you to Didi’s if this turned out to be a disaster.” Jocasta laughed, the sound soft and warm and seemed to belong right there in his part of the garden. He loved it when she laughed. “I’m serious,” he added.

“You hate Didi’s,” she pointed out once her amusement faded into silence. She was still bemused by his efforts to be the romantic between them.

He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck, “Yes well, it’s the only place open at this hour without going down into the lower levels.”

“I’m touched you would be willing to ruin your stomach to make my evening a pleasant one.” She leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek and felt his skin heat at the affectionate gesture.

“I’m sure they have something edible there.” His cheeks were burning, and his thoughts strayed to the lips that had caused them to burn, wondering what they would be like against his own. Despite having been seeing each other on a more romantic level the last few months, their affection had never gone beyond more than intimate touches and pecks on the cheek. He wasn’t sure if it were because of duty or a fear of what that would mean for them.

He turned his head to gaze upon Jocasta, watching her eat and occasionally stealing glances at him as she did. He loved her; he was certain of it.

He had known other women from other worlds during his missions; women who had tried to seduce him to get their way or kill him. Women who had shown him love and tried to bed him. But none of them had ever achieved in getting him to give them a second thought or the time of day. He did not care for them or love them. Not like how he did with her.

He decided he would like to kiss her.

“Jo,” he said her nickname reverently and it drew her attention from the food to him. She gave him an inquisitive, curious look as if she were trying to figure out what kind of specimen he was and why he was looking at her the way he did.

He didn’t know how to get what he wanted or if she would reciprocate. He knew she had feelings for him, otherwise they wouldn’t have taken their friendship to the next level. Dooku made the decision then to leave everything to the Will of the Force and reach for what he wanted and if it were decided that they weren’t ready, he would accept it and wait until they were.

He could be patient when he wanted to be.

The young knight set his plate aside and then carefully took Jocasta’s so it wouldn’t be in the way. He scooted closer and met her gaze. She watched him curiously still, not once protesting his actions thus far. It gave him the courage to cup her cheek in his hand and lean forward.

Their lips met almost hesitantly before sealing into a tender kiss. It was everything he had expected and hoped for. Her lips were perfect and tasted of the marinade sauce, moving slowly in time against his own. His hand glided into her hair, his fingers tangling in the red locks as the tender kiss grew passionate with each passing second.

He felt her hands on his shoulders and then against either side of his head, her own fingers clenching eagerly in want. They fell over onto the mossy grass, the plates of food and the tea forgotten as something spicier than Serennian culture came between them to sate a hunger neither knew they had until now.

_To hell with the Code_ , were his last thoughts as they forgot about everything else that evening.


End file.
